


In Over His Head

by Zoya1416



Category: Vorkosigan
Genre: Betrayal, Gen, Nope not at all why would you think that, Not inspired by current events, Political Satire, crackfic but serious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 16:12:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10880355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoya1416/pseuds/Zoya1416
Summary: Gregor Vorbarra has been betrayed by those he trusted.





	In Over His Head

Gregor woke up to a sound he'd never thought to hear. A huge boom shook the walls of the Residence. He was trapped by his bedclothes and finally fought clear of them. Staggering to the nearest window, he gulped in horror at what he saw. A wall of cannons faced him, backed up by the biggest energy tanks he'd ever seen. He gawked. Over the haze and dust, a banner waved. A silver and brown banner.  


He turned at a small noise behind him and stared wildly at a small man.  


"Miles! What's h – happening?" The smaller man was very close.  


"Did you think we'd let you get away with it? You fired Guy, even though you'd praised him for an investigation he did last fall."  


"He betrayed me. He did a bad job. Very bad job."  


Miles took no notice. "Then you fired Prime Minister Racozy, saying he'd failed you, too. "  


"He did. He was my enemy. Very, very bad enemy."  


"They're in cells awaiting beheading."  


"They were conspiring against me."  


"No, Gregor. They had learned that you'd sold us out to the Cetagandans."  


"No, I never...I don't know Emperor Giaja, but he's said nice things about me...you've turned against me too. So sad."  


"You did sell us out. Did you think I couldn't investigate you? You're not above the law. Why you did it, I can't imagine. You're already the richest man on three planets. "  


Gregor shouted out for his armsmen. "Arrest him! Arrest this traitor! He's saying bad things about me."  


No one came.  


Gregor saw Miles drawing something from his belt.  


“What, an energy weapon? This is sad. You are so, so sad...why didn't the Residence shields go off?”  


“No, Gregor,” said Miles, and it was the last thing Gregor heard. A whir of steel touched his throat from left to right, as the heirloom Vorkosigan dagger cut his trachea and his carotids. “You're the one who's bad. You're the King of Hearts, the King of my heart, but I am the Ace of Spades, which I think...takes the trump."  
  


Gregor woke up to a strangled noise and realized he was fighting his own blankets. He rolled free of them, falling on the floor. He touched his neck and found it warm and dry. He slowly pulled himself up and shakily stumbled to the nearest window. The night was quiet. The Residence lights bathed the streets, empty except for a few silently passing ground cars. He breathed clean air, his pulse quieting. He went over to the fireplace, warming his hands over the banked embers, which showed a congealed heap of what might have been a flimsy. The poker pushed the flimsy further into the coals, obscuring Fletchir Giaja's seal.

 _“Good,”_ he thought, _“they haven't found out yet. They'll never find out. Very, very good.”_  
And he went back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This has nothing to do with current US political events, of course. Nothing whatsoever...why would you even think that...Desperate fics as desperate measures


End file.
